


and my heart went thud, thud, thud

by mamaesme (ooka)



Category: Heart no Kuni no Alice | Alice in the Country of Hearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ooka/pseuds/mamaesme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boris and Ace really want to listen to the sound of Alice’s chest and why she doesn’t have a clock like them, and Peter White never interrupts the moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and my heart went thud, thud, thud

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiwikiwi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwikiwi/gifts).



Her sister would never get into situations like this, Alice knows that, but her sister isn’t here, lying on the ground with two men holding her arms.  Two men, including the one declared he wanted to kill her one seconds before and the one the first wounded when he tried to protect her.  Two men who only want to listen to the steady thump of her heart.  Instead she, Alice Liddell, is stuck in this situation without an ally, especially by the dark look in Ace’s eye and curious on in Boris’.

And while Alice likes Boris, and yes he keeps her from actually stabbing Ace a few times, he isn’t any real help when it comes to taming this side of Ace.  If anything, he’s egging it on with his raw curiosity.  And Ace doesn’t seem willing to tame his darkness or make Boris stop.

“Guys!” She says loudly, hoping deep in her heart that Julius will just open the door and come in and save the day, but of course, he’s out when she really _needs_ him.  “Come on, let me sit up!”

Boris has a wide grin on his face, ear twitching at the top of his skull.  “Nope!” he beams.  “I want to hear what your chest sounds like.  It’s got to be so different because you’re an outsider!”

Ace grins coolly, gazing right down at her.  “Of course it does.  It thumps instead of ticks.”

 _Ace,_ she tries to say with her eyes.  _Let me up.  This isn’t fun._

His smile widens, and she tries to divert the conversation.  “It’s because I have a heart and not a clock in my chest.”

Boris, who had been lowering her face to her breasts (which made Alice blush red hot at the thought), pauses, and he stares at her.  “A heart?” he asks.

Her breath catches in her throat and all Alice wants to do is hold him and explain everything, because he is so innocent and he cares, which makes no sense because no one has ever been this curious when it comes to her.  No one ever really wants to hear her speak. 

Ace leans forward, curious and intent on her expression.  “I’ll explain it if you guys let me up,” she compromises.

Boris probably would say something like, _you’d never let us hear it if we let you up_ , but Ace speaks before him.  “That won’t get you out of this.”

He’s ambiguous but Alice knows what he’s getting at.  “I know,” she sighs, heavily, knowing that once she explains what a heart is, she will _have_ to let Boris hear hers, and Ace, of course, because she can’t truly challenge Ace on this topic, not with Boris fighting for it.

They both release her, and Alice slides upright until she is leaning against her bed, legs outstretched and the two men staring at her curiously, ready for her to explain what a “heart” did.  They know what a heart is, the idea of an organ that held your emotions and such, but they don’t have one.

The people here aren’t heartless, per say, they simply weren’t driven by their emotions as strongly as she is.  They are driven by duties instead of what their hearts said. 

“A heart,” Alice begins, “is an organ in the body that pumps seventy two times a minute.  It helps move my blood and keep me alive.  I need my heart like you need your clock.  Think of it as like my clock, except different, and I can’t be fixed.  When my heart stops, it cannot be restarted.  I die and cannot come back in any way.”

Boris’ eyes are large.  “So you don’t have a person like Julian in your world?”

“No,” Alice shakes her head.  “When I die, that’s it.  I’m gone.”

She turns her head to Ace, and his eyes are stormy, like he is contemplating something.  “But that’s what makes life so precious,” she says, willing him to understand.  “I can only live life once, and I want to do it to the fullest.”

This world is so different from the one she is used to.  Every day Alice is more and more out of her depth as she tries to navigate through their usual fair, which is more than unusual for her.  She is used to being told to be a lady, reading books, and learning how to never stand out.  That is what her future will be, a quiet wife to a quiet man and never any true adventure for the rest of her days.

Well it was, until Peter Rabbit made her drink that potion and stuck her here.

Here, she isn’t Alice Liddell, a daughter to be married off to a rich man for a hefty price.  She isn’t the little girl in love with her sister’s future husband.  She is whoever she wants to be.  And Alice loves it.

Because, in all honesty, she isn’t who her parents want her to be.  She isn’t quiet and agreeable.  She can’t do demure like her sister or politely blank like her mother.  And here, no one expects her to be.  Especially Ace.

“Can I listen?” Boris asks eagerly, and Alice pauses, thinking about how un-ladylike this is, but dismisses the thought.  Here, she isn’t a lady.  She is merely Alice, and she wants to make them understand how precious life is to her, and why she defends people’s rights to live so.

She nods, and Boris places his head against her heart and listens so very carefully.  His ears twitch against the front of her nightdress, tickling her, but Alice bites her lip and keeps still.  Ace watches them carefully, the darkness still in his eyes as he leans against the table, arms crossed.  There is something in his eyes, like he is trying to say something, but she just doesn’t know what it is yet.  She opens her mouth to say something, like _Ace, are you al –_

“ _Oh_ ,” Boris exclaims with glee as he reels back.  “It does make a thudding noise!”

Alice smiles indulgently at him.  “Yes.  That is the noise a heart makes as it passes the blood through my veins, thus keeping me alive.”

“So it’s your heart is only for you, like our clocks?” Boris queries, double checking her information like he still can’t believe it.

“Yes,” she verifies. 

She pauses for a moment, but then adds, looking at Ace for some reason she doesn’t know yet, “However, people say we can give our hearts away to those we care about.”

Boris looks at her, slack jawed.  “I thought you needed your heart to live.  How can you give it away?”

“I need my physical heart in my body,” she agrees.  “But my metaphorical one, the one where I hold all my hopes and dreams and emotions, that is the one I give to the man I love and hope he never breaks it.”

Ace stares at her with a wonder, like he doesn’t understand how she can be real; and Alice smiles shyly in his direction.  “Do you want to listen?”

Boris steps away from the bed, his bandages rustling.  He watches Ace carefully as the Knight of Hearts takes his place at Alice’s side on the floor and hesitates for a second before pressing the entire side of his face to her night dress clad chest.

“Sometimes,” she begins carefully and quietly as Ace presses his ear closer to her chest.  “You can change your position in life.  But what do you doesn’t define who you are Ace.  You define yourself.”

Ace is quiet as he listens to her heart thud loudly in her chest.  He opens his mouth to say something, but Boris exclaims that he wants to hear her heart again and pushes Ace away.

He goes easily and silently, but Alice follows his eyes, paying not attention to Boris as he nestles beside her. They are lighter than they were when he entered, and Alice’s lips tilt easily.  His grin back is easier and more like the knight who always has a kind expression.  The other side of Ace, really, looks back at her and nods his thanks 

She mouths, over Boris’ head which is once again pressed to her breast.  _There is nothing to thank._

And she can’t help wondering what exactly her sister would do in this situation before Alice closes her mind to the idea because she is not her sister.  She is Alice, an outsider with a heart instead of a clock, but in the end she is still Alice.

She can make her own decisions, like who can listen to the steady _thud, thud_ of her heart or who she will give it to one day.  She is not her sister, or her mother, and this is not England.

This is, after all, Wonderland.

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely lady who requested this. I hope this meets her standards because I wanted to fill her prompt to the fullest extent possible. :)
> 
> It was a wonderful idea and now I may ship Ace/Alice, which was not my belief before. But I am easily led to ships. ;)


End file.
